What's Oktoberfest, Herr Kommandant?
by Kazakh Doom
Summary: On the night before Oktoberfest, Col. Klink sleeps in his bed, in the commandant's hut. He has a multi-phase nightmare, from the POV of an abominable SS officer, that makes him feel like not going...
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to Stalag 13. Regular visiting hours are in twelve hours...

Outside the fence, guards patrol. German shepherds, on leashes, skulk around, with glowing green eyes. On some of the trees, baited wolfsangels are tied. Every now and then, the German shepherds stray towards them...alas, their masters restrain them, pull them away, and the night patrol resumes.

Inside the fence, spotlights shine everywhere. All around them, but never in them, Hogan's Heroes are skulking, and they've all got anti-Axis thoughts on their minds. But what can the Axis powers do, but fall to the Achilles heel that one of their POW camp commandants is too gullible to know that they have?

In the commandant's hut, the lights are on. Someone's working late...

Meet Maj. Eisengaard. He's Gestapo. All the POWs hate him. They REALLY hate him. He doesn't care. If it helps the Axis win the war, he'll do it until he dies.

And he has NO idea how likely that last thing is...

Spontaneously, the lights go out. The Major stops quilling, of course. He sighs, and shouts for Cpl. Langenscheidt to check the breaker. Somehow, the Corporal doesn't answer. The Major sighs, abandons his work, lights a candle, and scours the whole hut for the breaker box...

He creeps around. He's used to this...but it's usually in the woods, hunting stray Allied warriors from the sky...

He hears a noise. He stops, and listens. He's tempted to get scared. But he's a man, and a German, and an Aryan; he will yield to no terror.

Onward, he creeps. He sure wishes he asked his predecessor for more details about this hut, before he...

He hears a noise. He stops, and listens. He's tempted to get scared. But he's a man, and a German, and an Aryan; he will yield to no terror.

At last, he finds it. No effort needed; someone's shut off the main lever. Without thinking, he switches it back. The lights come back on. He smiles. He heads back to his desk...

It's Newkirk, one of the POWs. He smiles, and waves.

"Hello, chum," he says. With that, he takes a club, and hits Eisengaard over the head, knocking him out.

Time passes; not that Eisengaard can tell. He wakes. He hangs upside down. He's in a silo, and he can't see the bottom...

In the silo wall, there's a ledge. Five of Stalag 13's own POWs stand: Hogan, LeBeau, Minsk, Dubois, and Newkirk.

"Sorry about that, Major," Newkirk calls out. "Col. Hogan's orders; not mine!"

"You insubordinate degenerates!" Eisengard thrashes; his chains rattle. "LET ME DOWN FROM HERE, IN THE NAME OF THE FUHRER AND THE THIRD REICH!"

"SHUT UP, KRAUT," LeBeau shouts back, "AND TAKE YOUR OWN TORTURE WITH A GRAIN OF SALT, LIKE THE JEWS DO IN THE OTHER CAMPS!"

"Pardon the austerity of the accommodations, Commandant," Hogan says, arms crossed. "But you know, bad Germans don't really deserve the tsar's suite in the Winter Palace."

Nearby, Minsk rolls his eyes. Like most of his fellow Russians, he misses the tsars...as bad as they were, before the communist mob proved themselves worse...

"I SWEAR TO YOU," Eisengaard shouts, "YOU'VE JUST UNLEASHED THE FULL FURY OF THE GESTAPO'S ARSENAL! LET ME DOWN, OR I'LL!"

With his boot, Hogan flips a lever. Bolas fly from out of nowhere, and wrap the Commandant's eyes inside a blindfold.

Near the wall, Dubois opens a control panel. He adjusts a control. All around, explosion noises resonate throughout the silo. Eisengaard screams and shivers, thinking that he's just been blown up.

"This seems more inhumane than most jobs we do," Minsk mutters.

"Hush," Hogan says, smiling. "What the Commandant knows won't hurt him."

"Or rather," Newkirk points out, "it won't hurt him as much as he THINKS it will!"

"He shouldn't be so offended," Hogan adds. "He does this to the Jews in the other camps all the time. He shouldn't persecute, if he can't tolerate persecution. I guess his professors forgot to teach him that in Gestapo school!"

"That would not be the only thing," Minsk agrees.

With the panel, Dubois smiles, and simulates electrocution noises. He unboxes a keyboard, within the control panel, and plays a song he's never heard before, with an instrument he's never heard before...

He plays the opening of the theme music of _Beverly Hills Cop_...a movie that won't exist for several more decades. He loses control, and performs the whole song.

Along the way, he simulates explosion noises, as well as electrocution noises. He also simulates twin trip hammers clapping against each other. Tied up and upside down over a chasm, Eisengaard shudders; he thinks he's been pancaked by the trip hammers. He also thinks that he's being electrocuted, scorched, impaled, drugged, and blown up; but as Newkirk says; "what he doesn't know won't hurt him; or at least, not as much as he THINKS it will..."

Dubois gets tired of "Axel F." Silence follows. From his pendulum chains, Eisengaard shivers, and hopes for mercy...or for the Gestapo to bail him out...whichever happens first. Neither one will.

Alas, a brief glimmer of hope comes in, in the form of Sgt. Schultz, as he plunders onto the ledge where the Heroes stand, through a hatchway onto it. He stops, and looks around.

He sees the POWs, outside of their barracks. He sees his beloved Commandant, hanging like a pendulum, and shivering like a coward.

"Sergeant," Eisengaard shouts, "please! Arrest these men, and help me down from here!"

But Schultz can't bear it. He gapes, closes his eyes, turns around, and runs through the hatch.

"I SEE NOTHING," he shouts, "I HEAR NOTHING! I KNOW NOTHING! I WILL SPEAK OF NOTHING!"

Newkirk smiles, and cordially closes the door behind their very own brave and bold sergeant of the guard. "Sorry," he mocks, "where were we?"

Dubois puts a record on a player. The player controls all the torturing gadgets in the silo.

"Blindfolds," Dubois recommends. "That's the only way this show can be experienced. Plus, it's not like the Commandant's going to do anything impressive, if he's tied up."

All around, the POWs close their eyes; mask themselves. Nearby, the record player plays, and the advanced torture begins.

The record plays Ted Nugent's "Stranglehold." It makes more noises, scares the Commandant more, and lasts longer than "Axel F" did. Several times, he screams like a girl. Dubois has programmed it perfectly, to where some of the Commandant's screams blend in with the record's music...for those few ultra-conservatives in the future who'd dare call any of Ted Nugent's noise music. (Nugent wasn't raised by a preacher played by John Lithgow, was he?)

The POWs smile, and listen to their Commandant's feminine side brood. With look, he'll look just like one of his tortured and mangled Jews by the time the Heroes let him go...IF they ever let him go...


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome to Detroit. The phone company is a big business here, rumor has it...

In a very dark room beneath it, Eisengaard gets bikini-waxed. He's paralyzed throughout the process. He feels the pain, but he only reacts audibly.

And, he's painted black. Tonight, he's going to be starring in an old-fashioned minstrel show...

Twin spotlights shine on a stage. To either side, the curtains roll back. The scene is set. The star is in place...

Disguised as a black man, Eisengard is wedged into the crossings of a railroad track. Behind him, there's a picture of a locomotive approaching, setting the scene.

In the front row, James Kinchloe sits, smiling. He misses his mustache...but that's just the way life works, sometimes...

Near him, a beautiful black lady adorns him with a new mustache. And, she kisses him on the side of the face. This is Princess Yawanda, from an African country that once sided with the Axis; much good that didn't do them. Somehow, she's become free of her jackass cad of a husband, Prince Makabana. After losing a friend in the Axis, he won't dare risk making an Allied enemy in Michigan, by invading them and trying to get his ex-consort back...

Near them, Richard Baker sits. It's a double-date. Tonight, Baker's here with Kumasa, a friend/crush Kinch once made in high school. So far, she seems to be enjoying Baker's company. With luck, this performance will maintain the mood.

On stage, Eisengaard is trapped, helplessly. From either side of the stage, two Norwegian female athletes, both dressed like Viking amazons, and both blondes, approach the trapped "nigger," each equipped with a nine-pound hammer...or props that resemble them...

On the front row, Kinch and Baker both laugh out loud. For once, they are SO glad that's not them, and that that's not really a black actor playing that part...

In the background, music plays. It sounds a lot like Todd Rundgren's "Bang the Drum All Day..." decades before its radio release...

Alternating, the Norse amazons start hitting Eisengaard on the noggin, with the nine-pound hammers. True to Kinch's and Baker's expectations, Eisengaard squeals like a girl, as he's hammered. The amazons show no mercy. They'll drive Eisengaard into the ground, as if he was a stake. Both of them lived in Norway during the war, and they've NEVER forgiven the Panzer brigades for destroying their hometowns and slaughtering their relatives... With luck, they never will.

No matter how much they hammer, Eisengaard doesn't seem to go any deeper into the ground/stage floor. But it's just as well; that's not really the amazons' objective.

This nightmare is horrifying, Eisengaard must admit. It's about to get a lot worse...


	3. Chapter 3

Ah, the plains of North Dakota... We're just somewhere outside of Bullfrog...

This is a Sioux village. Here, smoke rises from old fires. The day is overcast. An eerie wind blows across the plain.

This is an altar. It's made of wood, and marinated with oil. Unclear, as to how the Sioux got that much wood on a plain, where trees don't grow. But then, there was a time in Dakotan history when the Sioux had a fucking empire, that stretched from Canada to Vince Gill's precious Oklahoma Borderline...

From a prison hut, a captive is taken, by a pair of locals. One of them is known, locally, as Little-Deer-Who-Runs-Swift-and-Sure-Through-Forest. In Crab Apple Junction, the closest incorporated town, he goes by Andrew Carter. He stumbles a few times, while pushing the captive onto the altar, and leaving him there...but at least that's what he's got his low-talking cousin for...

In the middle of the village, a wooden statue stands high over all, atop a pole. He looks like Chief Sitting Bull. In reality, he's Carter's great-grandfather. Like Sitting Bull, he was a warrior, too.

The captive is Eisengaard. Carter and his cousin have left him, to burn. Beneath him, Carter has improvised all of the explosions and fireworks that'll go off, right before the Sioux of Bullfrog roast him alive, like a Bavarian long pork roast. Should Eisengaard be terrified? OF FUCKING COURSE! If not for men like Carter, all these Sioux would be in concentration camps, just like the Jews' back in Bavaria...as much as many of the locals, as well as some of the ultra-conservative whitefolk over yonder in Crab Apple Junction, don't understand how that's possible.

Terrified, Eisengaard waits. All around, many Sioux sing an ominous dirge...

Here, the Drums Along the Dusseldorf start playing. The Drums Along the Dusseldorf were inspired by Carter's war career; they salute (allegedly) the day when Carter, armed with only a bow and flaming arrow, destroyed a truck full of ammunition from his commander's room in his barracks at Stalag 13, because the guard was doubled, and his operation couldn't use the tunnels safely to blow the truck up more reliably... They've forgotten the real story, of course; stories like that have a way of being over-embellished by their re-tellers, after all...

All around the altar, Sioux dance. They're all dressed for the occasion, in furs, and leathers. Some wield wooden batons. Some wear masks that're made of animal heads; bison, mainly...

Some of the Sioux sing like Godsmack, a rock band that won't assemble for decades. They sing a spooky song of theirs, "Voodoo."

Onward, they perform. Around, they dance. Onward, the Drums Along the Dusseldorf rain. In the background, occasional hissing noises, of a snake, are heard... (Or, are they the sounds of water being poured on hot coals?)

A man stands over the altar, and leads the ceremony. He looks like Adolf Hitler. Apparently, he didn't really commit suicide. Apparently, he sought asylum with the Sioux of North Dakota, and is posing as Carter locally... (Or, is it the other way around?)

Hitler wears his brown uniform; the same one he must've worn during the "Brownshirts" movement of his country, that was eventually replaced by the Nazi swastika. Hitler still hates Mussolini...but at least his shirt isn't black, as HIS revolting one once was...

All around, the Sioux do some impressive dance. Below, Eisengaard shivers, whimpers, and begs for mercy in a falsetto voice. He has NO idea that his old boss is standing right over him, posing as a degenerate local. He's blindfolded.

Hitler stands and watches, apparently amused. Alas, as soon as the music sings its last line, he raises his arms; all around him, the music stops on a dime.

Carter's cousin has relocated to a ridge. Near him, there's a pail of oil. Carter's cousin dips the cloth-clad arrowhead into the oil. Nearby, an aide uses a lit torch to light the arrow.

Around Carter's cousin, a few clear away. He aims the arrow up, straight and true. He knows who his target is. He knows how much all Sioux everywhere hate him. All he's got to do is wait for the signal. All he's got to do is honor his warring cousin's war career...as semi-honorable as it might actually be...

With all the fury in the world, Hitler orders the arrow's release. Below, Eisengaard gasps and hiccups simultaneously, when he recognizes the voice of his dear Fuhrer...

With all the faith in the Sioux nation, Carter's cousin releases the arrow. Below, everyone gawks, as they watch its hangtime...

"O dear Wotan," Eisengaard mutters, during his impending doom, "why dust thou forsaketh me?"

Hitler raises his left arm, high. "HEIL ME," he shouts.


	4. Chapter 4

Welcome to Sessrumnir. It's a city of love...and one that Adolf Hitler himself loves much...about as much as he loves himself, recent rumor has it...

Here, fallen warriors are accommodated for. The Valkyries here dress in fur and metal bikinis. Some of them wear horned helmets. Constantly, they refill goblets with fine mead, and serve it to the warriors...

A Slavic-accented blonde attends to Minsk. She lies with him, caresses him with her silken hands, kisses his head, and smiles. He smiles. Clearly, they're both happy...

A French-accented redhead attends to LeBeau. She sits with him, and serves his mead. He lies down, in nothing but a pair of burgundy briefs. One of the Valkyries reaches inside them, and caresses what's beneath...

From nearby, a Slavic Valkyrie approaches. She looks like Nita Talbot. (She's not the real Nita Talbot, of course; first of all, the original's still alive, and second of all, Sessrumnir's personnel take the shape of whoever their patrons find dreamworthy; and on Midgard, Marya never loved anyone more than her "Small One," Louis LeBeau, who borrows Clary's 1965 likeness.) She stands, in a white fur coat and hat, admiring her Small One.

"Ah, LeBeau Darling," she says, in her notorious Slavic accent. "How I've longed to have you all to myself..."

From around him, LeBeau's regular Valkyries leave. LeBeau just beams, and clears a place for her on the couch he lies on. "Marya?! Is that really you?"

She sighs. "Nyet. I am just a Valkyrie. But I CAN be your Nina." She smiles, and places her white pump between LeBeau's upper legs. "All you must do is say please."

He beams, and nods. "_Sil vous plait_," he exclaims.

On a stage, a new age band, that resembles Faun, performs music. They sing one of their mightiest songs, "Odin."

Newkirk is here, too. He's being attended to by a Valkyrie who borrows Antoinette Bower's 1969 likeness. The Vakyries find him charming. He shows off the battle scars he contracted, while doing his own stunts...

Hogan is here, too. He wears a horned helmet...to cover up that ugly scar on his head that he contracted when he was slaughtered on Midgard by an still-unknown attacker. Around him, several ladies attend to him. One's a blonde, and borrows Ruta Lee's 1967 likeness. He's got more Valkyries sitting around him than any of the fallen warriors. And yet, somehow, the other fallen warriors of Sessrumnir don't seem to get jealous...

For now, the lights go out, throughout the Hall. Faun packs up, and clears the stage.

On the set, Eisengaard stands, exposed for ridicule. The veterans think so too; they all boo him, and throw their goblets at him. Lucky for Eisengaard, there's a net hanging in front of the stage. It keeps Eisengaard from getting stoned to death...as much as he probably deserves to have the net lowered.

Eisengaard's in a reverend's costume. For many long moments, he absorbs the worst of Sessrumnir's recalling inhabitants...

From stage left, Dubois enters. He's dressed as a groom. He takes his spot at a lectern, which faces stage rear.

Not being able to garner better support, Eisengaard sighs, turns, and prepares to host the "wedding" that's about to happen. His back is to the audience.

An organ breaks the monotony of the booing. All fall silent, as the bride enters...

She's wearing a veil, but otherwise bears the 1967 likeness of Susan Albert. From stage right, she proceeds. She gets a LOT more reverence than Eisengaard did. She takes her place near the groom, and awaits her boons...for having said yes to Messieur Dubois's proposal.

"Dearly beloved," Eisengaard begins, "we are gathered here to..."

The booing resumes. Eisengaard pauses, and loathes the bad prestige. Nonetheless, he continues...as much as he thinks this audience doesn't deserve a quality performance.

His most recent role, in acting, is Capt. Hook. He would've reprised it more times...alas, the acting industry has a very strict policy about the continued employment of actors who beat the shit out of their bosses, drop them into a stock tank of oil, and set them ablaze in front of their other employees...

With that said, "why isn't Eisengaard in Hel," you ask? Because Freya, the host of this realm, seems to have a soft spot for him, and has made a deal with Hela, the host of Hel and Nifelheim, where he can stay in Sessrumnir as often as he stays in Nifelheim; in Nifelheim slightly more often.

"Maurice Dubois," Eisengaard continues, "do you take Valkyrie 91 to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Dubois says, caressing his bride's hand, and smiling.

"And do you, Valkyrie 91, take Maurice Dubois to be your lawfully wedded husband, for the rest of your death?"

She smiles, and flaps her veil. "I do," she says, flirtily.

At this, the Hall's residents hoot and holler. Jealous, Eisengaard whirls, and flips them a double-barreled bird.

They start booing again. One of them throws a wood-burning stove at him.

Eisengaard screams like a girl, and freezes like a stag in the headlights, awaiting his doom...

Alas, Freya sends a beam of energy, and cinderizes the stove, moments before it pancakes Eisengaard.

"**No stove-throwing**," Freya's seductive voice echoes, throughout the Hall, scaring some of her patrons, "**until the performance has commenced. Herr Eisngaard? CARRY THE FUCK ON.**"

All calms. Everyone listens. Freya doesn't speak. Eisengaard clears his throat, and continues.

The crowd starts booing again, and throwing goblets. Eisengard pauses in chagrin, again...

"By the power vested in me by the realms of Sessrumnir, Hel, and Nifelheim," he blinks, and mutters, "for as long as it lasts," he resumes the line of dialogue, "I now pronounce this couple husband and wife."

Dubois and Valkyrie 91 turn, face each other, and embrace each other. The organ plays the conclusion, and all of Sessrumnir's patrons stand and cheer, lending an encore.

Full of Bavarian hubris, Eisengaard turns, spreads his arms, smiles, and bows. Naturally, the patrons all start throwing goblets at him again.

And, more stoves start getting thrown too. Eisengaard screams, and falls down while running off the stage. The curtains close, moments before the bride and groom can get hit by the "stove volley."

With that, Hela sends Eisengaard on a little furlough to Muspelheim. Here, the native fire demons tie him up in chains, hang him over a fire dragon's pit, and fire flaming arrows at him, as the great fire dragon, just beneath Eisengaard's feet, snaps at him, with his glowing mouth, and spark-generating fangs...

The fire dragon breathes on him, turning him into a burning human coal. Eisengaard writhes, flails, and says every swear word in German.

"YOU FUCKING HEROES," he shouts. "IF I EVER GET BACK TO MIDGARD, I'LL GAS AND ROAST YOU ALL FOR THIS! I DON'T CARE IF NONE OF YOU ARE JEWISH!"

Sooner than you think, Herr Kommandant. MUCH sooner than you think...


	5. Chapter 5

These are the spookiest woods in the North. The sun has set. A chill infects the air. Here and there, a wolf howls...

On trees, here and there, baited wolfsangels hang. They won't be serving Germany, or Eisengaard, tonight...

All alone, Eisengaard is in a pair of white briefs. He shivers. Everywhere, wolves howl. He's at their mercy, now...

In the shadows, evil green eyes shine. Color-wise, they're the exact opposite of the red banners of the Nazi flag.

Atop a hill, a great stag lumbers into view. The moon rises, just behind it. Simultaneously, the wolves of these woods howl a volley.

Meet Wolfgang Hochstetter. In one reality, he's a Gestapo major, and the Heroes' favorite manhunter. In this one, he's a Goth, and a foxhunter. And Eisengaard smells like a fox...

Frightened, Eisengaard runs through the forest, shivering as he goes along. He whimpers, and makes pathetic noises as he goes along...

All around him, the wolves are on the hunt. They've picked up Eisengaard's trail, and now chase him through the woods...

They howl. They bark. On stagback, Hochstetter swings a spiked ball-and-chain flail around, shouting profane things.

From out of nowhere, a wolf pounces on Eisengaard. He screams, thrashes, and toils to get that monster off him... He does, but it doesn't last long. Soon, he's got five biting at him...

He wrestles them off, and starts running again. He's limping, and bleeding...

Everywhere, the pack surrounds him. They're barking and snarling. They bare their fangs, bark, and nip at his heels. It all seems hopeless...

"RAUS, SCHWEINEHUNDEN!"

At the sound of Hochstetter's voice, the wolves scatter. Eisengaard looks here and there, terrified...

Hochstetter rides up, aback the stag. He looks terrifying. Eisengaard falls on his knees, prepared to beg for mercy. He doesn't expect it...

The stag turns, and stops. Off his mount's starboard bow, Hochstetter gazes.

Hmm; it seems Eisengaard's got Stars of David, Stars and Crescents, and Abyssinian symbols tattooed all over him. THIS, Hochstetter HATES...

He narrows his eyes, and scratches his chin with his flail. "Who," he asks, "is this man?"

Soon, Eisengaard is strung up, between two trees, over a stock tank full of oil. Hochstetter and his fellow Goths are going to give Eisengaard a Viking funeral. When Eisengaard's carcass is done, they'll have a party, and then they'll feast on Eisengaard's Jewish long pork; best they can do, considering there's no such thing as Jewish pork...or Arabian pork, for that matter...

Hochstetter strips. He only wears a pair of briefs, that're skull-patterned. Around him, his fellow Goths follow suit. They raise their arms, chant, and dance around the oil, before lighting it...

From the shadows, another stag arrives. It's bigger than Hochstetter's. Its eyes glow red. It turns, and stops.

A man dismounts, and stretches. While stretching, he points the wrist of his glove at the party. A light flashes from it. Inside, a shutter clicks...

Around the stock tank, Hochstetter and company dance. Tied up and hanging again, Eisengaard shivers and whimpers, as the new visitor arrives...

The dancing slows, as the Goths begin to acknowledge their visitor's arrival. He stops, and studies them...

Hochstetter creeps to the front of the ranks, and studies their visitor. "What," he asks, "is this man doing here?!"

"I am Pruhst," he says. He strips to his own skull-patterned black briefs, and uncaps a cold one, of sweet Prussian lager. "I have come to celebrate! My stag has brought beer!"

In the shadows, the stag bellows. He shakes his own rump, sloshing the lager and ale and stout in the kegs he's brought...

The Goths laugh, drink, and get friendly, while celebrating. Eisengaard STILL doesn't know how he feels about this...

"Are you," he whimpers, "are you all friendly enough to let me go yet?"

Hochstetter stops, and turns. They all do. Hochstetter's got a disgusted expression. Eisengaard shivers, not knowing what to expect...

"WHAT," Hochstetter screams, "IS THIS MAN DOING HERE?! LIGHT HIS ASS UP, DUMMKOPFS!"

"Allow me," Pruhst says, as he takes a torch from a Goth. He creeps towards the stock tank, and slowly inserts the open flame into the tank, and pushes it close to the oil's surface...

"O Hel," Eisengaard mopes, "what next?!"

The best for last, Eisengaard. THAT'S what's next.


	6. Chapter 6

In the skies over Axis country, a numbered air force of Allied bombers fly. They're armed, and heavy.

Inside the bomb bays, it's cold. There's ice forming on some of the bombs' fuses...

With chains, Kommandant Eisengaard is tied to one. Soon, he'll be up against his own doomsday. All he's got to do is make contact with the ground...right after he freezes to death from the altitude, suffocates from the air pressure, and passes out from the vertigo...

Below him, the bomb bay opens. He whimpers, and prays Woten for forgiveness...

His bomb is released first. He screams like a girl, and makes a drone, as the fuse of his mount causes the bomb to tip fore-down in midair, and start accelerating, due to gravity, towards Axis Europe's surface...

Around him, other bombs fall. In freefall, they seem to acquire minds of their own.

In volleys and barrages, they dive into Eisengaard's bomb, causing multiple explosions in midair. All around, Eisengaard, bomb clouds are generated. Like cells in a bacterial infection, the clouds multiply out of control, as their generators self-detonate...

From far and wide, Axis homeowners watch. Mothers cuddle their children, from behind. Boys stand at the front. Most of the men are gone.

At the windows, miniature schnauzers bark. At others farther south, in the Axis-ruled South Slavic lands, Croatian Dalmatians wag their dipstick-like tails, and watch, with their fore paws atop the windowsill...

At long last, Eisengaard's bomb hits the ground, and explodes. It's hit a Panzer base...

Moments pass. Smoke billows, and Axis warriors and civilians run, scattering everywhere, running for their lives and screaming.

From the cloud, a man on fire leaps. He lands on his feet, and shrieks with a Wilhelm scream, as he charges through the city, still blazing...

All around, cops try to stop him. He runs them over, sets them on fire, and keeps going. Eisengaard's a fucking juggernaut. All around, the Gestapo and other Axis-affiliated police forces radio for assistance...

In the streets, an infantry regiment of Axis troops lines up. Bayonets are up front, and machine guns are behind...

In pain and misery, Eisengaard blindly challenges the regiment. He screams again, hurting his attacker's ears...

He runs right through their ranks, setting ablaze every able-bodied German, Italian, Romanian, Croat, Slovak, Bulgarian, and Kurd who tries to stop him. Bullets and bayonets are useless against him. Again, he's a fucking juggernaut. And he's on fire!

Onward, he runs. There's a nice house, on a hill just up ahead...

Inside, Mrs. Burkhalter serves her husband, Albert, a big fat apple crumb pie. He seems pleased by the pie, and disgusted by the Prussian behemoth he had to marry, because as a lad, his own Prussian parents would've flogged him if he'd settled down with any lovely girl who was neither Prussian nor Aryan.

Outside, they hear a shriek. Mrs. Burkhalter drops the pie.

Gen. Burkhalter is mad about the pie. Nonetheless, as a warrior, his duty comes first. He runs into the closet, and grabs a Panzerschreck. He runs outside, stands strong, and aims the antitank rocket launcher at the impending threat...

It's fast, it's loud, and it's on fire. Burkhalter will take a LOT of pleasure destroying this son of a bitch, whether he knows it or not; this flaming coal was once a Gestapo major, after all...

"AWAY WITH YOU," he shouts, "FLAMING BARON BLITZKRIEG!"

With that, he lets the antitank rocket fly. It hits Eisengaard in the groin, and explodes.

At last, Eisengaard stops running. He falls on the ground, and shivers uncontrollably.

"Oh," he moans, "they got me!"

"For duty," Burkhalter acknowledges, "and the Aryan race."

Behind him, Mrs. Burkhalter descends the front porch steps. "Albert? What is it?"

"_Eine Moment, Frau_," Burkhalter begs. He bends over, and reaches out, with a gloved hand, towards Eisengard's burned and mangled corpse...

Burkhalter stops. He hears a noise. He rises. He looks up...

A gyroscope-guided rocket is on it's way. It's flying right towards where Eisengaard's lying...

Burkhalter stands, and runs back towards his house...but there's nothing he can do. The rocket's nose touches down, and levels Burkhalter's house to Warsaw's level.

There's fire, and smoke. It expands everywhere, reducing all of the Burkhalters' valuables to cheap trinkets...including the already-useless Panzerschreck.

In the smoke, Burkhalter stands up, in scorched clothes. He points an arm towards England. "KLINK," he shouts. "ENGLAND IS _THAT_ WAY, DUMMKOPF!"

His wife runs across the land, ablaze, like Denethor in _the Lord of the Rings_. If Albert hated how she looked before, she'll hate how she looks even more, when and if her flames go out...

All over the place, Eisengaard's burned and charred appendages are strewn. This has NOT been a good day for him...

His head is tilted, upside-down, and still alive. He bats his eyes, and sighs. "Save me, Woten," he begs. "I swear I didn't know I asked for this..."

"_Herr Oberst_," a female's seductive voice whispers, in Eisengaard's mind...

"Oh, how I miss the green, green hops of Sweet Home Bavaria," Eisengaard moans. "Oh, why did I have to listen, when the Fuhrer promised me a lifetime supply of Jewish long pork on the radio, one fine summer day during the Great Depression?"

"_Herr Oberst_," she says again, a little louder...

"I could've deep-fried it, like Wienerschnitzel," Eisengaard tries to continue, losing his train of thought. "I could've turned a Jewish woman's bare leg into Wienerschnitzel, and slowly munched on it, starting at the tip of her nice, tender bare fried foot, and making my way up to the very tip-top of her tibia..."

Onward this goes. As Eisengaard suffers, that woman's voice begins to sound more familiar, and closer...


	7. Chapter 7

"_Herr Oberst?_" Hilda gently shakes Col. Klink, as he sleeps in his bed, in the commandant's hut. "_Herr Oberst_," she whispers in his ear. "_Oktoberfest ist heute._"

Klink gasps, like a scared man, as he wakes. Hilda's so scared, that she nearly breaks his window, leaping back.

Klink sits bolt upright in bed. He rubs the eye in which he wears the monocle… Once Hilda calms herself, she gathers the monocle, and helps the Oberst put it in his half-blind eye. At last, _Herr Kommandant_ is awake.

"I'm not so sure I want to attend anymore," Klink mopes. "I just had a horrible dream about it..."

Hilda sits on the foot of his bed, and removes her shoes. "_Was ist los, Herr Oberst?_"

Klink shakes his head. "There's too much to recount...and I'm losing some of it, as we speak. It's all for the better, though. How could the Allies do something like that to a poor little Gestapo POW camp commandant?"

Hilda shakes her head, confused. "_Ich verstehe nicht, Herr Kommandant._"

He shakes his head. "Never mind. Just get my coffee. I'll break out the cold beer as soon as it's not too early in the day to drink."

"_Jawohl_." With that, Hila leaves him.

Moping, Klink starts rising. He's relieved it was all a dream. Sometimes, he sure wishes the war would end. He dreads these nightmares will only get worse if it goes on for too much longer, especially of the high command ever decides to transfer him to the Eastern Front...

"_Herr Oberst_," Hilda adds, "someone is here to see you...about Oktoberfest."

Klink. "Fine. I'll be there in a moment, to tell them the bad news." Barely dressed, Klink whirls around, and...

His visitor has come in a little farther in than instructed. She's standing behind him. Klink gapes, as he stares into the lovely face, and downblouse, of the lovely Marlene Schneider...fiancé of the notorious and infamous Count Rudolf von Heffernick, who once threatened to transfer Klink to the Eastern Front if he ever caught him and Fraulein Schneider alone together.

"Hallo, Wilhelm," the Fraulein flaps her blonde hair, seductively. "Rumor has it you are attending the Oktoberfest in Munich?"

From outside the Commandant's window, the POWs on detail stop working, when they hear the Commandant shriek with a Wilhelm scream, smash the window as he leaps from it, and run in circles around camp in his undergarments.

All around, the POWs snicker to themselves. The guards express confusion...

Fraulein Schneider looks out the shattered window, confused. She's joined by Hilda.

"What," Schneider asks, "on Midgard has been the trouble with Wilhelm?!"

Hilda shrugs. "He woke up like that. He said he had a bad dream."

"Hmm," Schneider nods, with a dark look in her eyes, and smiles, a bit sinister-like. "I remember a time in our youths, when he was in a similar state..." She chuckles. "I rather liked him like that, really..."

"You knew Herr Kommandant when he was young?!" Hilda seems fascinated. "What was he like? Did he have hair?"

Schneider turns, and sizes Hilda up. Depending on how much military action she's seen, or horror stories she's read, she might not be strong enough to hear about the first time Schneider was ever there for Klink, as he was having an Oktoberfest-related nightmare...


End file.
